In a Dark Land

by Christina Soontornvat

  Across the plaza, three more Unglers slunk out from the shadows of a side street. There were too many for the Changelings to fight.

  “Dree!” Izzy shouted. She pointed to the gathering Ungler mob. “You’ve got to go find Peter!”

  Dree paused in midair. When she saw the Unglers, she turned and sped through the castle doors.

  The Unglers crossed the plaza, snouts to the ground like bloodhounds. Izzy froze, terrified they’d smell her. But the beasts had picked up some other trail. They lifted their heads and started cantering up the castle steps.

  Horror rippled through Izzy. The Unglers had smelled the Changelings inside. Hiron, Ollie, Hale, and all the little ones. Peter must be with them, but what if he couldn’t protect them?

  “Hey, hey!” cried Izzy. She clapped her hands overhead. “Hey! Look over here!”

  The Unglers paused, rocking on their back hooves. They swung around and raised their eyeless faces at her. The Unglers lumbered toward Izzy, slowly at first and then in a burst of rickety motion that made her stomach lurch.

  Springing off their long back legs, the Unglers leaped onto the wall. Scraping and scrabbling, they pulled themselves to the top. The beast closest to Izzy opened its mouth wide, baring curling brown teeth at her.

  Izzy screamed and shrank back from them, nearly falling off the other side. She flipped onto her hands and knees and started crawling along the top of the wall. Behind her, the Unglers’ snorts turned into excited shrieks. Izzy pushed herself to her feet. Holding both arms out for balance, she started to run.

  The Unglers followed, chasing her along the top of the wall in single file. The beast directly behind her lunged forward, swiping its wormy fingers through her hair.

  The wall extended another fifty feet in front of Izzy, then made a sharp right angle as it wound around the plaza. There was nothing beyond the edge of the wall but open air and a straight drop into the river.

  Izzy felt for that wispy trail of memory that had floated in the dark of her mind ever since she first read The Book of the Bretabairn. Instead of letting the memory drift past, she grasped onto it and held tight, pulling it close. With a rush, the Change took hold of her, just as her foot touched the last stone in the wall.

  Izzy heard the Unglers’ shrieking behind her, and then the sounds fell away, down and down, as the beasts careened over the edge. Their bony bodies flailed in the air as they bashed against the city wall and hit the river below.

  Izzy didn’t fall with them, because Izzy was flying.

  Shakily, clumsily, but flying. Her blackbird wings sliced through the night. The air flowed smooth and glassy over her sleek feathers, curling into turbulent eddies beneath her, pushing her, lifting her up. Izzy’s heart lifted too. She had done it.

  She heard Peter’s flute ring out from the castle. It was the happiest sound she’d ever heard.

  His song swept the shadowy mist away, and the streets flooded with morning light. Peter marched down the castle steps, switching to a high-pitched tune that seemed to drive the remaining Unglers mad. They writhed and then fled, loping down the side streets with Tom and the Watch at their heels. Izzy opened her beak and cawed triumphantly.

  But just as the thrill of what she’d done set in, Izzy glanced down at the dark river far below. Her wings wobbled. Time to get back down to the ground before she lost the Change and crashed.

  She tilted her wings at a slight angle and circled over the plaza, trying to spiral down for a landing. She could see Selden and Lug. They looked ragged, but they were on their feet, so they must be all right. Dree had Changed into herself and was tending to a bloody scratch on Lug’s shoulder.

  Now Izzy had to worry about landing. The ground beneath her suddenly looked very hard and unforgiving. She aimed for the fountain, hoping the water would soften the impact when she landed. Fairies who’d tried to get away from the cold shadows had jumped onto the fountain’s rim. Izzy sailed over their heads, her eyes on the water.

  As she stretched her feet out to land, cold fingers wrapped around her throat and yanked her out of the air.

  Izzy immediately lost the Change and became herself again. She gasped, but the breath strangled in her throat. She reached up and clawed at the fingers around her neck, trying to pry them away.

  “Look what I’ve caught,” said a low voice near her ear.

  Izzy looked up into the face of the man with the crocodile mask. He loosened his grip on her enough that she could gulp down a breath. Then he took off his mask.

  He stared at Izzy with bright eyes, the color of green lichen. The same eyes Izzy had seen watching her in the Edgewood. “Hello, Bretabairn,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  13

  Shades and Shadows

  The green-eyed man regarded Izzy curiously, the way a little child might watch an insect it planned to crush under its shoe. He had the smooth, unlined skin of a young man, though dark shadows clung to the hollow spaces beneath his cheeks and eye sockets. Locks of dark hair were tucked behind his ears, which were perfectly—humanly—round.

  “You are a curious creature, aren’t you?” he said to Izzy softly. “You seem to be a Changeling, but you aren’t a very good one if I can shake the Change right out of you.”

  Peter hurried down the castle steps and out onto the plaza. “Put her down, Rine,” he commanded.

  The name sent a shiver through Izzy. Rine. The witch they’d been warned about.

  Rine’s eyes swung down to meet Peter’s. His thin lips forced a smile, and he clenched his teeth tight as he spoke. “Hello, again, Piper. It’s been quite a while since we’ve seen each other. It’s nice of you to recognize me. Then again, I’m sure I’m one of the more memorable ones.”

  Peter walked steadily forward. With every step, the shadows thinned and swirled out of his way, like water running down an open drain. “Release the girl, and you won’t be harmed.”

  Rine gave Izzy a shake. “She’s not a girl. She’s a pathetic excuse for a Changeling, but I’ve been looking for one for so long that she’ll have to do.”

  All the other fairies standing around the fountain had fled except for a woman wearing a bat mask. She took the mask off, releasing ringlets of thick black hair tucked behind round ears. Another witch. She looked younger than Rine and more nervous. While he talked to Peter, she chewed one side of her lower lip, then the other. Rine snapped his fingers, startling her. He gave her some unspoken signal, and she nodded.

  Leaning forward, she put her fingers to her mouth and pulled a thread of spit from between her lips. She drew it out with both hands, like a spider spinning silk. Izzy had seen Morvanna do this before. The witch was making a chain. The spittle changed into loops of glittering silver that she coiled between her palm and elbow.

  Izzy kicked, but Rine tightened his grip around her neck until she held still. The witch wrapped the chain around and around Izzy, pinning her arms down to her sides. When Izzy was completely bound, Rine let go of her and pushed her into the curly-haired witch’s arms.

  Izzy gulped air down her bruised throat. She squirmed against the bindings, but it only made the chain squeeze tighter.

  “Don’t do anything foolish,” the curly-haired witch whispered to Izzy. “Be nice and still, and you won’t get hurt. Not immediately anyway.”

  Selden growled and started forward, but Peter put up his hand. “Don’t move. Let me take care of this.”

  “Yes, take care of things,” said Rine coldly. “The way you always do, Good Peter. The way you take care of the Exchange, the way you take care of us humans. You are so good at your job. You don’t always get it right, but what’s one mistake here or there?”

  Peter grimaced. “No, I don’t always get it right. But I can make it right for you now. What is it you want? Tell me, and I can arrange it.”

  “You know what I want,” said Rine. “But you won’t
give it to me. You won’t lift the bans.”

  “I can’t,” said Peter, taking another step forward. “You know that once I set them, no one can lift them. Not even me.”

  “The King’s Key could solve that problem.”

  Peter kept taking small steps forward, holding his flute pressed tight to his chest. “I don’t know where it is. It might be gone forever.”

  Rine wagged one finger back and forth. “No, not gone, just hidden. And if you don’t know where it is, then it sounds like you don’t have much to offer me.”

  Izzy glanced down. Rine’s hand twirled toward the shadows that still lingered at the base of the fountain. His fingers twisted and tapped the air. Below him, the shadows spun, forming a short black rod.

  “I’ll help you find the Key if you let her go,” said Peter. “We can look for it together.”

  Rine’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’m stupid? You might have fooled Morvanna, but I’ve got more sense than to listen to your flattering lies. The only thing you care for are those brats.” He swept his arm out at Selden and the other Changelings standing nearby. “Well, I care about them too now. They’re the reason I’m here.”

  Peter raised his flute to his chin. A change had come over him. Izzy almost didn’t recognize the terrible, imposing figure striding closer. He seemed to have grown taller, and he glared at Rine with eyes blacker than the shadows at their feet.

  “I’m warning you,” said Peter, his voice echoing across the quiet plaza. “You have taught yourself well, but you know you still can’t match me.”

  Rine didn’t waver. He held the rod of shadow in his fist. With a wave of his fingers, the end whittled to a fine point. When he lifted it, it gleamed solid and sharp. He had made a knife.

  Rine stepped in front of the witch with the dark curls and put one arm around Izzy’s shoulder. “I recently learned that Changeling hearts hold the secret to finding the King’s Key,” he said calmly. “I could just take this one and see where that gets me.”

  “Stop!” said Peter, holding the flute to his lips. “I’m warning you…”

  Rine drew the shadow blade back. He aimed the tip at Izzy’s chest.

  Izzy gasped and held her breath.

  Peter’s flute played one pure, resonating note. A beam of white light streamed from the flute and shot across the plaza toward Rine.

  Rine ducked. Izzy shut her eyes. She felt the heat of the light beam race past her left shoulder. It burned so bright and hot that Izzy’s vision glowed red behind her eyelids. When she opened them again, black spots pulsed all around her.

  Izzy blinked. The witch with the dark ringlets was gone. A flurry of bright sparks floated down in the place where she had been standing just a moment before.

  Peter looked stricken. He dropped his arm, nearly letting his flute slip out of his fingers.

  Rine wrapped his arms around his stomach and doubled over, trembling. Izzy was sure he’d been wounded. His whole body shook violently, and the knife slipped out of his hand. Izzy saw her chance. She threw herself down from the fountain and rolled away from him.

  Peter recovered himself. He raised his flute and played the same piercing note. Another bright beam of light shot out toward Rine. Before the beam struck him, Rine’s body burst into thousands of tiny green pieces. A sharp gust of air picked them up and scattered them across the sky. They looked like shiny leaves flicking back and forth as the wind carried them north and out of sight.

  The whole city had fallen quiet. Seconds after Rine vanished, the fairies who’d hidden or fallen to the ground cautiously stood up and began talking, relieved to be alive.

  Peter sunk to one knee. Dree, Selden, and Lug ran past him to help Izzy. When they got the chain loosened and off her, Dree wrapped her arms around Izzy.

  “Are you all right?” Dree asked, looking her over.

  “I’m—I’m OK,” said Izzy shakily. “I’m OK.”

  Lug hugged her close. “Thank goodness Peter was here!”

  “Come out, come out, dear friends! He’s gone!” Lufkin cried out to the timid fairies. “The witches are no match for our Piper! All hail the Piper! Our protector!”

  Cheers roared across the plaza. Peter didn’t join them. Izzy didn’t either. She’d been close enough to Rine to hear him as he vanished.

  He had been laughing.

  14

  One Black Feather

  Izzy woke late the next afternoon with all the muscles around her arms and shoulders in tight knots. It took her a moment to realize the soreness must have been from flying the night before.

  She lay in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. She had done it. She’d Changed into her blackbird form, the hardest one of all. The realization should have made her happy, but instead, she was haunted by the image of Rine’s glowing green eyes. Any time she tried to remember the feeling of Changing, she remembered the feeling of his fingers around her throat instead.

  Izzy tried to remind herself that everything was all right. Peter had reassured them that the spell Rine cast to make himself split into thousands of pieces was a costly one. The sun would have to set and rise three times before he would be able to pull himself together again. Izzy knew his appearance in Avhalon would affect the plan for the big Exchange, but she didn’t know how. She needed to find Peter.

  She slid out of bed and got dressed. Dree must have already gotten up, because her bed was empty. Izzy walked downstairs, past the clatter and clang of the Changelings in the dining room and out to the main courtyard. All the open spaces on the castle grounds were shaded by the high castle walls, so the air was still cool. Olligan sat on the wall in his human form, legs dangling over the side. Beside him perched three large crows, each one the size of a cat. Izzy smiled as she watched Ollie having a conversation with them.

  He held his arms crossed, and his head dipped respectfully. He made short gravelly caws. The crow beside him answered with a single squawk. Olligan spotted Izzy and hopped down from the wall, Changing into a squirrel in midair, then back to himself again halfway across the courtyard.

  “Hiya, Izzy. You feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she answered, waving one hand casually, touching her bruised windpipe with the other. She wasn’t sure how much Ollie knew about the night before, and she didn’t feel like talking about it now. “Have you seen Peter?”

  Ollie shook his head. “Not since last night. But these guys are asking for him too.” He pointed at the crows with his thumb. “Strange birds. Not from around here at all. I was trying to be polite, make small talk, you know. Normally, crows are so chatty, you can’t get them to shut up.” He scratched his head and looked back at the birds. “But those guys weren’t interested in talking. It’s weird. Look, here comes another one.”

  A fourth stout crow circled over the courtyard and landed beside the others. It nodded to the first three and then settled down into a watchful silence. Ollie was right. Izzy had never thought about it before, but it was strange to see crows sitting together, not making a peep.

  “What do you think they want?” asked Izzy.

  Ollie shrugged. “Maybe they’re just passing through. I can’t imagine they flew here from very far away though. They look like they’re a hundred years old.”

  “Older than that,” said a voice behind them.

  They turned around. It was Good Peter. He walked into the courtyard, both hands in his pockets, and took a seat on the bottom step next to Izzy.

  “Have you seen them before?” Ollie asked, nodding at the crows.

  “A few times,” answered Peter. “Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Once again, he looked different. The commanding, powerful figure who had saved them the night before was gone. Peter was back to being his regular, dapper self, though Izzy could tell from the faint crease between his eyebrows that somethin
g was bothering him. “I’m glad I found you out here, Izzy,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Izzy hadn’t gotten the scolding she felt she deserved for leaving the castle the night before. She waited for the lecture she knew she had coming.

  “Don’t look so worried. You aren’t in trouble,” said Peter. “I wanted to tell you that I owe you an apology.”

  Izzy sat down on the step beside him. “An apology? Why?”

  “For snapping at you the other day when you came to talk to me in my study.”

  “Oh, it’s not a big deal—”

  Peter held up one finger. “Let me finish. It’s natural you would want to know about yourself and your past. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you for asking.”

  Izzy couldn’t remember ever hearing Peter apologize for anything. He’d snapped at her before. He’d snapped at all of them. That’s just how he was. She looked at Ollie to see if he thought this was as strange as she did, but Ollie had walked back out into the courtyard to watch the crows.

  Peter continued. “When I told you that I don’t know who your parents were, it’s the truth. I don’t know where you really came from.”

  Izzy nodded. “It’s OK. I understand.”

  “But there is something else I didn’t tell you,” said Peter. “And I think I should tell you now.”

  Olligan, who wasn’t paying attention to their conversation at all, gave a laugh of surprise. “Hey, take a look at this!” he said, pointing to the sky. “Three more crows! They’re coming this way too.”

  Peter squared his shoulders to face Izzy. His relaxed smile was gone. His words came fast and serious. “Izzy, the man who brought you to me when you were a baby wasn’t a fairy. He was a human who I had brought here as part of the Exchange.”

  Izzy leaned back, unsure what that meant. “Who was it?”